


I can spell spell

by ShadowSelene (Shadowdianne)



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-25
Updated: 2019-02-25
Packaged: 2019-11-05 15:50:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17921801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadowdianne/pseuds/ShadowSelene
Summary: Prompt: "Ok so I said one word wrong in the spell like that's gonna make a difference" 😈Asked by siakb via tumblr





	I can spell spell

**Author's Note:**

> This one was written in several notes on my phone and I've done the barest editing possible because it's monday and I'm tired so apologies for any bigger sloppiness than usual

Emma bit her lower lip as she glanced at the small glass bottle she hold between her hands, the glass gleaming on her fingers with magic that called for hers with every heartbeat. The air that surrounded her was cold, unforgiving, and when she sighed deeply she could see her breath floating away; silver and far too light to stay for too long before it disappeared completely, leaving her alone inside Regina’s vault once again.

Yet, the idea of loneliness was on itself not right and she found herself grimacing at the titillating copy of herself that rested on the cot a few feet away from her, the edges of her face blurry enough for Emma to swallow; almost willing herself to think that she was staring at nothing but an old picture. An old picture, she added as she pressed her thumb against the glass surface, the skin around her nail turning white and numb, that breathed even if it was very softly, the rise and fall of her chest almost imperceptible but still there on the way a second set of floating breath kept on dissolving away above her head.

Glancing down at the small bottle and humming at the almost full receptacle, the blonde turned quickly as the slab of stone above her head whirred and moved; Regina’s signature footsteps the next thing that reached her as she turned wildly towards the entrance, heartbeat throbbing on her temples as she did so.

 “Did you find…” Her question died on her lips as Regina’s face appeared above her, the brunette descending the stairs with brown eyes colored purple, worry etched on her features as she quickly checked the figure that rested on the cot; the details of her clothing, her hair, the freckles Emma sometimes spied on the mirror whenever she had the time for such a thing, almost perfect, almost too real.

 “Gold didn’t have anything on this.” Her voice sounded jagged and tired and Emma closed her eyes at the words, unsure of how she felt about the news. A notion, she reflected, that had begun as a small idea on the back of her head as she had stood in front of Regina, almost empty bottle in hand and nothing but a vague silhouette slumbering on the floor a few feet away from her.

The brunette had looked aghast the moment Emma had finished the incantation, the foreign words sounding too strange on her tongue, nothing like the easy way in where they echoed from the older woman lips and when Emma had felt a wave of tiredness making her knees wobble and buckle she had known that she had done something wrong. And, indeed, she had.

The simple transference spell she had been asked to do between the essence of the flower she had been holding and the bottle of glass on her other hand had crackled and sizzled before the elvish words had floated around her, entering inside of her as the last word of the hex was still visible on the dirty white magic that slowly but steadily, began to fill the glass.

 “So.” The brunette’s voice had broken the silence, but Emma had felt her head submerged in cotton and water still, the roof of her mouth rough like sandpaper as she swallowed thickly. “Rather than putting the essence of the flower inside of this…”

 “I put one part of my essence outside of it.”

She closed her eyes and rolled her shoulders as Regina busied herself around the copy of herself, clearer by the second and corporeal enough to leave an imprint on the cot where there had been nothing to focus on less than an hour ago. Cold crawling up her neck, Emma wondered once again what part of herself was being siphoned out of her. She didn’t feel different, aside from the tiredness, and as she watched at the brunette she could only feel light-headed whenever she tried to move too quickly. Which, all things considering, wasn’t the worst thing that could have happened to her.

Licking on her lips, she stumbled as Regina turned with yet another book between her hands, the dusty pages yellow and muted against the bold black and red the older woman had decided to wear for the day. A detail that Emma found herself surprised at having focused on it. It had been too long since she had done such a thing; far too long.

Which, on itself, made her feel curious as she run her hand through her hair, the once upon straight curls feeling bouncier by the second, a detail that nagged the back of her head with every second that it passed. A detail that, despite everything, seemed that Regina still hadn’t quite picked yet.

And that, she thought as her temples pounded, was yet another thing that scared her. Hands falling to her side, limp and barely holding the glass, she moved towards the brunette as Regina moved towards the chamber of hearts; the quiet yet still present heartbeat around them making her halt for a second before she entered fully into the small, square-shaped room.

The brunette was looking into the objects she still had inside, the roots and pieces of creatures and flowers a silent reminder to what Emma had messed up. And yet, she thought as she approached the older woman who, not once had stopped ever since the first rivulet of magic had begun to create the copy that now laid a few meters away, she couldn’t find on herself repent of guilt. That was, maybe, what was being taken away from her; the crippling worry, the everlasting doubt, the brittle yet defeating sensation of not being good enough. A fear, she reflected as Regina kept on moving around, never once stopping, that had been within her for so long she wondered what else would be left behind if she let the glass fill itself with that part of her.

Hands itching, warm and buzzing, she didn’t realize she had put them around Regina’s forearms until the brunette’s eyes widened, far too close to hers. Closer than they had been in an almost too long as well. Something her quickly growing feverish mind noted like an almost afterthought. Had truly been that long since she had initiated some kind of contact with Regina? She knew the answer to it, the reason behind it a ring-shaped noose on her finger.

Maybe that was it, she said as Regina licked her lips, the purple on her eyes darker, fuller with sparks that Emma longed to see and touch, maybe what was disappearing was merely returning her to a previous state. One she missed. One she didn’t know how it felt anymore.

It was maybe that realization what made her move forwards, the hold of the glass growing fainter by the second and, when she tilted her head and waited for a permission of a kiss, she already knew she would get a “yes”. Which, at any other time would have paralyzed her.

She was vaguely aware that Regina quivered under her touch, the words “magic” and “enchanted” making her whole being pulse. Yet, the older woman closed her eyes, doubt lapping the edges of her irises. Enough to make Emma stop.

 “Regina?”

The brunette opened her eyes, still breathless, still unable to say a word and she found herself biting her lower lip as Emma took a step backwards, eyes glimmering, and lips upturned in that lopsided smirk of hers she had missed. Her shoulders, however, were corded and locked beneath her hands and the older woman found herself kneading the muscles that awaited below the leather jacket, the glossy surface of the clothing not making the grip any easier as the silence between them lengthen for far too long.

Tilting her head to the right, the brunette eyed the younger woman, the way her hair fell at both sides of her face, framing pale skin she so much longed to touch and caress. A wish she felt beating within her in a way she had learnt to suppress. Which could be the reason why, as Emma closed her eyes and shook her head, she anticipated what would be the blonde’s next words.

 “Emma?” She still asked, softly, and the sound of the blonde’s breathing was the only thing she was suddenly able to hear, the magic crackling on the hands that waited on her waist, nervous and fidgeting. She, ultimately, spoke aloud, sounding too brittle, you young and too tired and Regina refrained herself from closing her own eyes, a tired sigh running through her back, knowing already what would be her answer to the question that circled them, hung around them, in the same way their magic finally did.

 “What if I don’t want her back?”


End file.
